Catharsis
by therisingharvestmoon
Summary: Harry Potter, Severus Snape, non-slash. From the OOTP chapters, 'Seen and Unforeseen' and 'Snape's Worst Memory'. Things go slightly differently. Occlumency from SPOV.


**Title:** Catharsis

**Characters:** Harry Potter, Severus Snape, non-slash.

**Setting:** From the OOTP chapters, 'Seen and Unforeseen' and 'Snape's Worst Memory'

**Rating: **K (G)

**Warnings: **None

oOoOoOo

Severus stared into the face of the troubled adolescent he resented so much: the green, almond-shaped eyes staring back defiantly from the face of his very worst enemy – an abomination if there ever was one. He felt himself sneer, telling the brat everything he wanted to tell his father fifteen years ago, and this Potter was, in comparison, defenceless.

'You are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters.'

The green-eyed, black-haired teenager looked livid. He could ignore the eyes quite easily, having put the painful memories related to them in Dumbledore's Pensieve. He had not taken James Potter from his mind, however, and it was quite easy to torment the boy from this close proximity. Revenge, in truth, was a very subtle thing. Even if Severus was not.

'No – that's your job, isn't it?' Harry retorted.

He was expecting this return of anger, though the snap came much later in the evening than Severus had expected. It was amusing to see the boy's eye's widen slightly as he suspected that he may have gone too far, though from that same breath to the next, he remained standing defiantly. It was rather amusing how much the child did not know about his mission and why he was on it. He continued to watch Potter carefully, tracing his mouth with a finger, as was his custom when thinking. Oh, if only he knew _why. _What would the boy think if he knew the Potion's Master's actions were because of a lifelong love, rather than one moment of conscience on his father's behalf and a hatred which paled in comparison? Severus almost smiled.

'Yes, Potter. That is my job.'

It was amazing how much he could loathe the symbol of his redemption so. He rolled up his long, black sleeves and raised his wand once more. 'Now, if you are ready, we will start again. One – two – three – _Legilimens_!'

Potter's memories once again appeared in his minds eye and Potter's knee's buckled as was custom. Severus saw one hundred Dementors hurtling toward the Potter in his head, but the image was fading, he could see Potter in his office all too clearly, and -

'_Protego_!'

There was no time to defend himself against the unexpected Shield Charm. He staggered, wand flying upward. The sudden unbalance and wandlessness, along with the surprise, meant Potter could see into his mind. He could no longer see his office, but a stream of images from his own childhood. He was six, his father was yelling at his mother for burning their dinner and there he was in the corner, cowering and weak… As a teenager now, again at Spinner's End, shooting flies from the ceiling in sheer boredom… At Hogwarts now, and a familiar laugh filled his ears as he watched his eleven year old self trying to mount a broomstick for the first time…

'ENOUGH!'

His shouting snapped Potter out of it, and they both stood in his office once more, panting. Potter appeared extremely confused and apparently quite frightened. Biased as Severus was and as willing as he was to get Potter into trouble at every opportunity, he had to admit that the boy's use of Legilimency was clearly an accident. He righted himself, shaking, his face feeling bloodless. Potter had almost seen his mother in one of Severus' memories. It was a close call. The child did not seem to have made the connection (how could he know his mother's laugh after knowing her for so little time?) and had fallen against one of the shelves.

A jar of pickled rat's spleens had cracked and now dripped onto the boy's head. Potter squirmed uncomfortably as the cold liquid ran down his neck, though he still appeared to be in shock at what he'd just seen.

I was not so sensitive about viewing his upbringing, yet the boy still appears stunned Severus mused, and raised his wand to fix the jar himself. '_Reparo_.' Still panting, he stepped toward his desk. 'Well, Potter… that was certainly an improvement.' He straightened the Pensieve with nervous hands, as if to make sure the memories had not somehow escaped back into his head or into the room. 'I don't remember telling you to use a Shield Charm… But it was certainly effective,' he conceded.

Potter remained silent. It was unimportant to Severus that Potter had seen his parents and pitiful existence as a youth As long as he didn't make the connection to Lily. He glared at the child that looked like James with renewed loathing, in case seeing the poor child in the memory that he had once been made him appear any less authoritative. It was not out of revenge that Severus' next charm was much more aggressive, but to train Potter. He had blocked him once, but with the Dark Lord there would be no time to clear your mind. So Severus gave Potter no time.

'_Legilimens!'_

Unfortunately, just after a snide remark from Potter about the Dark Lord and Severus' use of the aforementioned title, there was a scream from directly above their heads. That was… the courtyard? He left the room quickly, in case there was an emergency, and heard Potter follow several meters back. Sybil Trelawney was sitting on her own suitcases with two sherry bottles in her hands, apparently being read her rights by that disgusting frump, Dolores Umbridge. He watched the scene unfold and saw Potter appear on the other side of the crowd. That was a good thing, he suddenly realised, as he had left his most horrible and most precious memories in the Pensieve on his desk, where anyone might see.

oOoOoOo

He had been pacing his office floor, deliberating on whether or not to remove the memories now or when Potter arrived. His decision was just as well – it had taken almost the entire ten minutes of Potter's lateness to extract them. Though he did it quite proficiently, his mind was on other things- the Department of Mysteries and the rudeness and impertinence of Dolores Umbridge, to name a couple. She had, just prior to lunch, demanded his entire supply of Veritaserum – no doubt to interrogate students and any staff she could trick into revealing Dumbledore's whereabouts.

His irritation was matched by the slight confusion of being in such close proximity with Potter was actually somewhat enlightening. Despite the occasional retort, Potter was in truth as courteous and attentive as the other faculty had proclaimed. Though, when the door creaked open, Severus managed to compress all these reflections into one, simple statement.

'You're late, Potter.'

Severus stood facing the wall, extracting the last stand of silver from his scalp. It swirled in with the rest of his recollections and he turned to face Potter as it dissolved. He could glare at the child, right in the eyes, and not shirk away in the slightest as he made his demand. 'So… Have you been practising?'

'Yes.'

When he made his reply, his eyes were fixed upon the floor. So, he was lying. Though as Potter had proven time and time again, he was very apt at weaselling out of these situations. His luck would, perhaps, prevent him from being killed. 'Well, we'll soon find out, won't we? Wand out, Potter.'

Potter appeared nervous, Severus noticed with vague interest. Was it over a matter far beyond schoolyard heartache and quarrels? He would soon see. 'On the count of three then,' he said, trying to sound uninterested. It was not difficult. 'One – two – '

The door opened with a bang just as Severus prepared to perform the charm. Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, much to Severus' irritation, and gaped at them both. He imagined his raised wand caused the boy some surprise. He lowered it.

'It's all right Draco; Potter is here for a little remedial Potions.' Why not twist the excuse for his amusement? He saw Potter flush in anger and Draco with glee.

'I didn't know.' It was more of an accusation than an apology, but Severus did not much feel like sharing the news of these sessions with his House, lest the truth drift to the wrong ears. Draco leered at Potter, which annoyed Severus even more so. They needed to get on with the lesson. 'What is it, Draco?'

'It's Professor Umbridge, sir – she needs your help.' No more words could have possibly angered him more, but he kept a stony face. 'They've found Montague, sir, he turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor.'

'How did he get there?' He was exasperated and slightly worried. Montague was in very dangerous hands if Umbridge had anything to do with it. He was slightly mollified toward Draco now for coming to get him.

'I don't know, sir, but he's a bit confused.'

Severus rose, turning toward Potter. 'Very well… We will resume this lesson tomorrow evening.'

He left his bitter feelings toward Potter and unfortunately, his memories in the Pensieve when he left to sort out the matter. The realisation only came when he arrived at his office door and saw Potter's satchel next to his desk. Almost frightened, and certainly extremely angry, Severus whipped around to see the Pensieve glowing blue. Teeth bared, he dove into the worst day of his life, just in time to find Potter observing his pallid, fifteen-year-old self hanging upside down by his own curse.

He was sure Potter had not noticed him yet, so he stole a look at Lily storming away toward the castle. His chest tightened. His head spun, he had not taken a breath since entering the memory. He grabbed Potter's shoulder tightly, not caring that he was hurting him.

'Having fun?'

Potter spun around, looking terrified. They were pulled back to the office as the memory ended. His hand could not let go of Potter's arm. He wanted to hit him. He wanted to scream.

'So… _So… _Been enjoying yourself, Potter?' He could barely speak. His anger was tainted with fear. He had seen his mother… But James had also been there. He wasn't bright enough to make the connection… No…

'N-No.' The teenager tried to free himself from Severus' grip.

Focus on James, focus! 'Amusing man, your father, wasn't he?' He was shaking, though in fear or anger he could not tell. He shook Potter so hard, his glasses slipped down his nose.

'I – didn't - '

The green eyes looked up at him with fear and hurt, just as she had done. Severus could not bear it. He threw the boy from him to the dungeon floor with all his might.

'You will not repeat what you saw to anybody!' It was the crux of his embarrassment, his hate for James Potter, and his loss of Lily Evans. The latter fact would not – could _not _– be found out by anyone. Knowing Granger, they would figure it out. It appeared to Severus that Potter had taken him seriously enough. He was so angry he did not even notice that Potter had been looking at his father with disgust and disbelief.

'No – no of course I won't – '

'Get out, get out – I don't want to see you in this office ever again!' He screamed. Potter turned and fled. Severus gripped his hair in distress, looked around for the nearest object, found a jar of cockroaches on the shelf next to him, and hurled it over the boy's head. He shrank to dodge it in the doorway, but did not move again. He had lost control. He needed to calm down. He needed Potter to leave. But he wasn't moving. He was cowering, staring up at Severus, but he didn't leave.

'I SAID GET OUT, POTTER. GET OUT.'

Now he sounded truly deranged. He grasped the roots of his own greasy hair once more and stepped over the broken glass to the child, almost stamping on him. He was almost crying in fear, rage and disbelief.

'S-sir? Professor S-Snape? I just wanted to say… sorry.'

His eyes snapped open and he glared down at Potter. 'What did you say?' His voice had returned to its deadly whisper in shock.

Potter swallowed, clearly still frightened after the display of violence. Only a few weeks ago, Potter had seen a similar-looking, violent man leaning over a woman and her small son in his memory. Now, he stood in the exact same position. A bruise was visible on the boy's arm, just like the ones that had been inflicted on him as a child. He felt sick, bile rising in his throat.

Potter took his silence as an invitation to continue. 'I said… I-I'm sorry… for… what they did. It was cruel. No matter…' he gulped. 'No matter what you did, or were… after that. You… you were right, sir.'

'About, what, Potter?' he asked, not harshly.

'My father… was what you always said he was.'

Severus took his eyes off the fixed spot on the wall and looked at the boy. Those eyes were full of tears that the young man was desperately trying to restrain in front of – and because of – his most-hated teacher.

'I expect you'd like to leave, then?' he quipped curtly. It was an improvement from his last dismissal.

Potter lowered his head. 'That's… that's all I wanted to say, sir.'

'Very well.' His mouth was dry, and more words would not come.

Potter turned to leave, slowly picking up his belongings and trying to avoid the broken glass. The silence was almost deafening and Severus fiddled with papers on his desk, for once not knowing what to do. What was right and what he wanted often found themselves in competition. The door once again creaked as Potter shut it. Severus closed his eyes.

'Potter!'

The door whined as it was again opened cautiously. He took so long to turn around that he thought Potter might have left, but he stood there, a sliver of his young face cautiously hovering in the doorway. There were some, small satisfactions for him after all.

Severus sank into his desk chair, his fingers slipping into his hair, massaging his now painful scalp.

'Potter…' He found that he was quite confounded. His anger was now with himself at being so imbecilic. 'Potter. Harry.' The name sounded strange, alien almost. 'Thank you.'

The boy's face mirrored his own feeling of surprise and uncertainty.

'It's okay,' he mumbled.


End file.
